From: richarra@gmail.com   
      
   December 24th - St. Charbel Makhlouf the Maronite, Hermit (RM)   
    (also known as Sharbel)   
      
   Born at Béqaa-Kafra, Lebanon, in 1828; died at Annaya, 1898; beatified   
   during Vatican Council II in 1965; canonized 1977.   
      
   Charbel left the following prayer:   
      
   Father of truth, behold your son who makes atoning sacrifice to you. Accept   
   the offering: he died for me that I might have life.   
      
      
   Joseph Zaroun Makhlouf was the son of a Catholic Lebanese mule driver, who   
   died when Joseph was in early childhood. He was raised by his uncle, who was   
   displeased by the boy's early devotion to prayer and solitude. At the age of   
   23, Joseph went secretly to the monastery of Our Lady of Mayfug, a house of   
   the Maronite Baladite order. When he was admitted to the order in 1851 he   
   took the religious name Charbel-a 2nd century Antiochean martyr. In due   
   course, Charbel made his solemn vows in 1853 and, in 1859, he was ordained   
   to the priesthood, thus becoming what is known as a 'hieromonk.' This   
   practice is more common in Roman rather than Eastern traditions. Father   
   Charbel traversed the divide between East and West in other ways as well.   
   For example, one of his favorite books was the Imitation of Christ.   
      
   He lived the life of a model monk in the monastery of St. Maro at Annaya   
   (Gibail) for 15 years-singing office in choir and working in the monastic   
   vineyards and olive orchards with strict obedience and personal self-denial.   
   He wished, however, to more closely imitate the Desert Fathers. To do this,   
   in 1875, he took a hermitage near St. Peter and St. Paul.   
      
   For the next 23 years he lived an ascetic life. His home consisted of four   
   tiny rooms and a chapel, which were shared with three others. For all these   
   years Charbel spoke to another monk only when it was absolutely necessary.   
   He ate but one meal of vegetables daily. He tasted no meat. He drank no   
   wine, save a drop at the Eucharist. He ate no fruit. He also undertook four   
   annual periods of fasting. He refused to touch money.   
      
   Instead of a bed Charbel Makhlouf had used a duvet filled with dead leaves,   
   on top of which he used a goatskin for cover. His pillow was a piece of   
   wood. When anyone came to inhabit the three other rooms, Charbel placed   
   himself under obedience to them. He recited his office at midnight. During   
   these 23 years, more and more people came to ask his counsel, prayers, and   
   blessing.   
      
   Thus in the 19th century Father Charbel Makhlouf-along with a few other   
   saintly men-had tried to live again the austere life of the desert fathers   
   of the early church. He belonged to the Christian body known as Maronites, a   
   group which traces its name back to Saint Maro, a friend of Saint John   
   Chrysostom. This group of Christians, most of whom still live in Lebanon,   
   have been united to the Western Church since the 12th century, thus bringing   
   into Western Christendom traditions of great value that might readily have   
   been forgotten. These traditions are ones of enormous self-discipline, and   
   few have exemplified them better than Charbel Makhlouf.   
      
   After 23 years of this ascetic life, Charbel had a paralyzing stroke just   
   before the consecration while celebrating the Eucharist in his chapel, and   
   died eight days later on Christmas Eve. After his death many favors and   
   miracles were claimed through his intercession in heaven. Today his tomb is   
   visited by large numbers of people, not only Lebanese Maronites and not only   
   Christians   
      
   It was also necessary for the Roman authorities to investigate the   
   phenomenon of a kind of "bloody sweat" that flowed from his body during the   
   period up to 1927 and again in 1950. Some months after his burial, the body   
   was fresh and incorrupt and was placed in a new coffin, where a reddish   
   perspiration flowed and caused the monks to change his clothes twice weekly.   
   In 1927, the patriarch initiated an enquiry and the body was reburied. In   
   1950, after liquid was observed on the wall of the tomb, the body was found   
   fresh and incorrupt again. Instantaneous cures and miraculous healings were   
   claimed, some of whose beneficiaries are non-Christian. The body was   
   reburied under concrete. This extraordinary phenomenon provides a modern,   
   verifiable account of the types of events frequently claimed for Medieval   
   saints (such as Enero) and frequently disregarded as superstitious   
   (Attwater, Bentley, Farmer).   
      
   Quote:   
   To lose ourselves in God is simply to give up our own will to Him. When a   
   soul can say truly, "Lord, I have no other will than thine," it is truly   
   lost in God, and united to Him.   
   -St. Francis de Sales   
      
   Bible Quote:   
   The voice of one, saying: Cry. And I said: What shall I cry? All flesh is   
   grass, and all the glory thereof as the flower of the held   (Isaias 40:6)   
      
      
   <><><><>   
   TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE JESUS CAME.   
      
    Twas the night before Jesus came and all through the house   
    Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.   
    Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care   
    in hopes that Jesus would not come there.   
      
    The children were dressing to crawl into bed.   
    Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.   
    And Mom in her rocker with baby on her lap   
    Was watching the late show while I took a nap.   
      
    When out on the East there arose such a clatter.   
    I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.   
    Away to the window I flew like a flash   
    Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!   
      
    When what to my wondering eyes should appear   
    But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here   
    With a light like the sun sending forth a bright ray   
    I knew in a moment this must be THE DAY!   
      
    The light of His face made me cover my head   
    It was Jesus! returning just like He had said.   
    And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth.   
    I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.   
      
    In the Book of Life which He held in His hand.   
    Was written the name of every saved man.   
    He spoke not a word as He searched for my name:   
    When He said "It's not here" my head hung in shame.   
      
    The people whose names had been written with love   
    He gathered to take to His Father above   
    With those who were ready He rose without a sound   
    While all the rest were left standing around.   
      
    I fell to my knees, but it was too late:   
    I had waited too long and thus sealed my fate.   
    I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight:   
    Oh. if only I had been ready tonight.   
      
    In the words of this poem the meaning is clear:   
    The coming of Jesus is drawing near.   
    There's only one life and when comes the last call   
    We'll find that the Bible was true after all !   
      
   "Then I saw Heaven opened, and behold, a white horse.   
   And He who sat on him was called Faithful and True.   
   He was clothed with a robe dipped in blood, and   
   His name is called the Word of God.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)